Of Waltzes and Swordplay
by LordLanceahlot
Summary: During their courtship, Elizabeth and Will show each other the respective pleasures that their two favorite hobbies could bestow.
1. An Unexpected Partner

She had sworn off corsets forever.

Unfortunately for Elizabeth Swann, corsets were the height of fashion and try as she might; she couldn't seem to escape them.

"I cannot _breathe_!" She gasped out as her maid, Melly, yanked the strings on the back.

"Beggin' your pardon miss, but I'm under strict orders from the Gov'ner."

With a grunt, Elizabeth reached around her back and found the laces of the hateful corset. She tugged the strings on the knot and the corset released, sending a rush of air to her depleted lungs.

"Melly. I refuse to wear this." Seeing her about to protest, Elizabeth held out her hand as a gesture of peace. "My father will never know, and if for some reason he finds out, I will fully implicate myself."

With a hesitant smile, Melly acquiesced.

Elizabeth finished getting ready, sans the corset, and then sat for Melly to carefully arrange her hair.

"If I might be so bold, may I inquire as to the occasion for all of this miss?" Melly asked as she twisted a lock of honey colored hair. After looping a few curls on the top of her mistress's head, Melly finally let the rest hang down Elizabeth's back.

"We're going to take a trip to town, you and I."

* * *

"Yes Father," Elizabeth said exasperatedly. "Of course Melly will be accompanying me."

Elizabeth blew some of the carefully arranged locks of hair from her face as she inwardly rolled her eyes. Each time was the same. She waited for the words to come.

"And you won't be fraternizing with that blacksmith?"

"You mean my suitor? Need I remind you that I did _not _accept the Commodore's hand? He has moved on Father, you know he's engaged to Miss Mary Wells."

As her father made a move to interrupt, Elizabeth continued on.

"And furthermore, I am happy for them both. You know I hold the Commodore no ill will. Indeed he is a fine man and any woman would be lucky to have him. But there's a fine line between respect and affection and I would very much like for you to consider how I feel about this. If I want to see Will Turner, I do not see how you can object, as he is a respectable man with a steady job and I will be under constant supervision."

The Governor was visibly relenting, as Elizabeth knew he would.

Softening her tone and the harsh expression on her face, Elizabeth affectionately placed her hand on her father's cheek.

"You know I love you Father."

"Yes, dear. Oh alright. Go into town."

Calling Melly, the two exited through the grand front entrance. They walked along the path in silence for a moment before Melly spoke.

"Am I to assume that I will conveniently find some errand that will take me some long while?"

Elizabeth laughed out loud and then covered her mouth. "Oh Melly, you know me too well. I just need to see him for a little bit, you will leave us?"

"Of course miss. He is a good man, that Will Turner."

"Yes… yes I dare say he is."

* * *

Melly and Elizabeth parted outside the blacksmith shop, Melly ducking into the seamstress's shop down the street while Elizabeth glanced through the window on the outside of the smithy.

Not seeing Will inside, Elizabeth shook her head in disappointment before an idea struck her. She walked around the block and came around to the back side of the shop. Had it been any other time than noon, she might have hesitated before entering the back alleyway, but she was confident that the broad daylight would protect her.

She walked through the alleyway until she came upon the back of Will's smithy, pleased to see that the window was open to try totempt a breeze. It was in vain, however, as the day was hot and humid and the leaves hung still, unshaken by any light wind. The small smile playing on her mien grew broader as she heard one of the sounds she cherished more than anything.

Will was speaking, but to who? Not wanting to intrude, she decided to take a peek into the window. By standing on her tiptoes, she could see inside and once she did she had to clap her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.

Will was bowing to thin air.

"Miss Elizabeth, may I have this dance?"

He waited for a moment for the invisible Elizabeth to answer. Her answer must have been satisfactory, because he then reached out his hands to the air and began to step backwards into the steps of the waltz Elizabeth had been attempting to teach him. He moved his feet backwards, then sideways, trying to keep up the tempo.

Having contained her giggles long enough, Elizabeth rested her chin on the beaten woodwork of the windowsill and called out to him.

"You may, Mr. Turner, have this dance, provided you've finished with your present company."

Will spun around, mortification spreading over his features.

"Elizabeth!" His voice was an octave higher than usual and his face was flushed a brick red, a considerable feat in view of his dark tan from the Caribbean sun.

"Are you going to make me stand out here all day Will Turner?"

"No of course! I'm sorry Elizabeth." He rushed to unbar the door and let her in. As soon as she was in, he pulled the door shut, glad that the darkness helped him hide the still red flush on his cheeks.

He swallowed. "I was just… I… um…well,"

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side as he stammered out excuses for his behavior. Behavior she found very endearing.

She reached her arms around his waist and pulled him to her. She could then comfortably rest her head on his chest and she did so without delay, sighing in contention.

Elizabeth could feel his heart beating fiercely in his chest, a sign that he was still slightly mortified. Feeling a little ashamed at her part in embarrassing him so fully, she pulled back and smiled up at him.

"Care to finish that dance?"

A rakish look suddenly overcame his features, as the pirate in him battled against the shy blacksmith.

Without answering her, he pulled her from him and pushed forward, seamlessly entering into the steps of the waltz. They danced closely, their gazes locked.

"I've missed you," she said breathlessly as he pulled her toward her.

"And I you, my dearest Elizabeth."

They continued moving, Elizabeth gracefully steering Will's somewhat clumsy movements.

"You know, the gentleman is really supposed to lead," she said, smiling up at him.

"Indeed?" He suddenly broke the waltz movement and twirled her before catching her in his arms.

He pushed her from him, stopping her with his fingertips. Gasping at the sudden display of rogueish affection, she was further surprised when he gently, but firmly pulled her back into his arms, pressing her bodyto his.

Wordlessly, they both stopped moving.

"It's been too long since I could hold you like this," he said into her hair.

She smiled against his chest, breathing in the heady scent that was unmistakably Will.

"You look beautiful," he said as he pulled back to admire her.

Her fair complexion had been earning her compliments from the time she hit 11, but there was something different and thrilling when Will said one. Perhaps it was that it was a rare occurrence, as it hadn't been long ago when he wouldn't even call her by her first name. It might have been that, she surmised, but it probably wasn't. She was fairly certain that it was because when he said one, his eyes grew darker with sincerity and he looked at her like he never wanted to stop. There was something entirely sensual in how he would look at her, staring down as if into her soul.

They might have stayed in that spot forever, eyes locked, had reality not decided to enter in at a most inopportune time.

"Miss Elizabeth!" Melly called from the front.

Will jumped from her as if she was scalding.

"Coming Melly!"

"I must go Will, but can I see you again before long?"

"Come as soon as you can, I have a surprise for you."

At this, Elizabeth flushed, her hazel eyes brightening.

"A surprise?"

"Yes," Will said. He smiled and gave her a short kiss on the lips, partly to stop the question he could see forming and partly to satisfy his own base desire.

"Miss Elizabeth!" Melly called again from the front.

With a sigh, Elizabeth extracted herself from Will's arms.

"I will see you on the morrow Will." She started walking to the front.

Will followed after, nearly tripping on his feet in his haste to open the front for her.

"Yes, I will see you tomorrow." And then as he watched her retreating form, he suppressed a sigh.

"Elizabeth."


	2. Moonlit Reminisces

The full moon hung heavy over the waters of the Caribbean, spreading a soft glow on the rippling waves. The lightest whisper of a breeze teased the palm trees lining the shore and made its way through the streets and finally into the open window of the blacksmith shop.

A lone figure worked feverishly over the fire, hammering out steel for his latest orders. He had suspended all of his work, save for one piece, and now that it was complete and reverently placed on his meager desk in the relative safety of his back room, he had much to catch up on. After dunking the sword into a bin of water to cool, he slumped against the table and blearily rubbed his eyes, effectively getting soot on his face.

Since the blade was cooling, Will waited for a few minutes until the red tinge had left and then finally hefted it out and let it sit on the table. He went to the window—the same one Elizabeth had leaned on three days previously—and rested his aching head on his arm.

Elizabeth.

The thought was enough to put a smile on his face and to slightly relieve his pounding head. His eyes drifted to the light sword he had fashioned. Walking over to it, he took the handle and then tested the balance.

Yes, it was a fine blade. He had worked days and nights on it, disregarding sword after sword as much too heavy, much too light, not crafted exquisitely enough… Finally, after many sleepless nights, he had achieved his goal. The resulting sword was slightly shorter than most, and a good deal lighter. The blade was strong steel and the handle was inlayed with gold filigree.

He only hoped Elizabeth would think so. His mind lazily drifted back to distant memories, one such occurring not long after their return from their adventure with Captain Jack Sparrow.

* * *

"I want to learn how to defend myself." 

Will stopped drawing idle circles on her palm with his fingers.

"You... what?"

"You heard me Will, will you teach me how to wield a sword?"

"...Elizabeth! You know your father would never allow…" He stopped as Elizabeth made a move to interrupt him.

"I am quite sure he would like for me to know how to defend myself and who would be a better teacher than you, Will?"

"It's not that Elizabeth," he said softly. He drew his hand away and averted his eyes from her face. At this, Elizabeth inquisitively looked at him, before taking his hand again in her own. They were indulging in the rare occasion of being alone, strolling on the beach. Melly had left them, and instead of spending the afternoon in the stifling smithy, Elizabeth had convinced Will to take a walk.

"Your father would never allow me to instruct you."

Expecting his usual fears about her father not allowing her to take up such a dangerous hobby, this threw her off guard.

"I—what?"

"You father doesn't approve of me Elizabeth. Why would he entrust me with something as precious as your safety? You sneak out in secret to meet with me—Do not deny it," he said as he saw her face. He continued. "I love you Elizabeth; I know I should have told you every day since the day that you rescued me. And I know that I would never allow any harm to come to you. But your father… you father does not know that. And I can actually relate to him, because I know I would be reluctant to ever let another near you, let alone supervising you with a blade."

They walked on in silence, Will pensive and brooding, Elizabeth, taken aback.

She stopped and turned him to face her. The beach was empty at the time of day, nearing 7 o clock. The sky was pink and gold from the sunset, and had their conversation been anything other than the serious one that it was, Elizabeth was sure it would have ended with a kiss. A strong breeze whipped his hair across his face and she tenderly reached out and tucked it behind his ear.

"I love you William Turner. I love you more than anyone. And I thank you; you're the best person I've ever known." With that she reached up and kissed him lightly on the lips, enjoying the way his eyes widened as she pulled back. He was usually the one to instigate a kiss. A small smile tugged at his lips and he suddenly reached out and hugged her tightly.

"I cannot teach you to fight, Elizabeth," he whispered into his hair. "But will you teach me something?"

"Anything," she murmured against his shoulder.

"Teach me to dance."

"What?" She pulled back slightly and tilted her head.

"I will not stand for me embarrassing you at anymore functions or balls that your father throws. Please teach me to dance so I will not embarrass you any further."

"Will! You do not embarrass—"

He cut her off mid sentence and smiled crookedly at her.

"Elizabeth, my love, you know as well as I do that I have two left feet. If you had rather not extend the effort to teach me, and yes I know it will be quite an effort, I will certainly understand, but I would very much like to learn."

At that, Elizabeth could do nothing less than acquiesce, her heart quickening at the thought that there was only one reason in the world that Will was committing himself to such a torturous endeavor. It was because of her, because of his love for her.

"Shall we commence then?"

"Now? Here?"

"I do not see why not," Elizabeth said as she playfully grabbed his hand.

They spent the rest of the night dancing on the sand.

* * *

Will set the sword back down again, smiling at the memory. The next morning after that night, he had gone straight to the governor in order to beg and grovel and do whatever was necessary for his permission to teach his only daughter to fence. 

As expected, the first time he has asked, he was laughed at and shown to the door. But in the days that passed, Will's determination only grew stronger. Elizabeth _should _know how to use a sword, if only to protect herself. And there was no one he would entrust to teach Elizabeth other than himself.

Through days and days of calling at the governor's, in secret always, he finally built up a fragile trust with Elizabeth's father. It took all of his persuasive, reasoning and wheedling—and William Turner was not a man who lowered himself to wheedling for anything less than the woman he loved—but the governor finally acquiesced and Will had his blessing.

He lay down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Elizabeth had taught him how to love, to live and to dance. If she wanted to learn how to fence, who was he to deny her? He smiled and chuckled to himself at the picture his Elizabeth would make with a sword in one hand, and with that happy thought, promptly fell asleep.


	3. Bestowing the Gift

Elizabeth Swann was not a woman one would like to cross when she was angry.

And angry she was. She stood in the pathway between town and her father's house and gave Captain Gilette an icy stare.

"Excuse me Captain, but I believe you are blocking my way." She made a way to move around him but he stepped in front of her.

"Pardon me, Miss Swann, but I cannot let you by me. I have it on good authority that you have been passing afternoons with the blacksmith, William Turner, and I frankly, cannot allow it."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me? On whose command are you detaining me? Certainly not my father's."

"I stand on this matter by no command other than my own, Miss Swann." The pompous officer puffed his chest out and shot her his best condescending smile. "He is not a suitable match, Miss Elizabeth. I would have you to remember there are others more… qualified."

Elizabeth noticed the familiar change of her name almost before she noticed the words he spoke. One not familiar with her and her moods might have mistaken the fire in her eyes as passion, but one close to her would know to leave, and to leave at once.

"More qualified, Captain Gilette?" She sidled up to him. "Do you have a suggestion?"

The response to his advances was going quite satisfactorily in Gilette's eyes, and he inwardly grinned, deciding to play his sympathy card next.

"I know the loss of the Commodore as a suitor was hard felt by you both," he started, his eyes softening with mock sympathy. "And I believe that is the reason why you have been associating with that blacksmith—by means of your own grief and despair."

Elizabeth nearly snorted, but kept a straight face, her anger mounting.

Unaware of the dangerous waters he was waist deep in, Gilette barraged on. "The boy, he does not deserve you. And Norrington," he spoke the name with a slight sneer, "Norrington did not see what was under his very nose."

At that moment, two things happened in rapid succession. Elizabeth reached back and slapped Gilette hard on the face, and Commodore Norrington himself stayed the hand that had been about to clamp onto Gilette's shoulder.

Norrington looked over the shorter man to Elizabeth in amazement and something that looked suspiciously like respect.

"Good show Miss Swann, good show indeed." His eyes explained that he bore her no ill will and Elizabeth felt a surge of relief and some respect for him as well.

Gilette stared in disbelief at the events unfolding around him, and started mumbling hurried excuses to his superior. Shooting Gilette a sharp look that quieted his whimpering in a second, the Commodore turned to Elizabeth.

"I meant to assist you when I saw this disturbance, Miss Swann," he said. "But I daresay you had the situation quite under control." With a slight nod of his head to her, he dragged off the still mumbling Gilette.

She watched him go with a certain amount of fondness. She loved Will with her entire heart, but she sometimes wondered if she would have found happiness with the Commodore. She supposed she might have, because respect was evident in their relationship, but it would have taken many, many years. He was a good man and she was proud to call him her friend, but the feelings were nothing compared to her admiration and love for the simple blacksmith of Port Royal.

She continued on her way, walking a little faster in her anxiety to see Will. It had been days since their last encounter, where she had caught him practicing the dance she had taught him. The picture of it put a smile on her face thinking about it. Another thought crossed her mind however, and she bit her lower lip. She had told him she would come the very next day, but already three days had passed. Complications and obligations were a normal part of Elizabeth's everyday routine, but yet she couldn't help resenting them.

Elizabeth finally reached the door to the blacksmith. It was open this time, and she walked in, calling Will's name as she entered.

The man in question stumbled out of the back room, nearly tripping on a stool in his haste to greet her.

"Elizabeth!" Will's face broke out into a smile. "Are you ready for your surprise?" He went behind her and firmly shut the door to the smithy.

"What is it Will?" She asked, smiling in spite of herself. "Could I entice you to tell me?" She went over to him, emboldened by their newfound privacy, and skimmed her fingers over his chest.

Will's breath came a little unsteadily at this contact, but managed to grasp her hand and pull it from him. Ducking his head down next to her, he lightly kissed the spot where her jaw and ear met, and whispered "I'll show you instead."

He left her for a moment and the returned with a long wooden box. He gave it to her and sat back, anxiously awaiting her response.

Elizabeth curiously opened the box, and gasped.

The sword Will had fashioned laid innocently inside, glimmering in the sunlight streaming in from the window.

"Will!" She pulled it out, careful to mind the blade and held it for the first time. It was light and comfortable in her hands and she laughed out loud in delight. Will beamed at this excitement, and she reverently laid the sword back in its box.

She then turned to him, crossed the steps between them with quick strides and threw herself in his arms.

Will stumbled backwards, and then steadied himself, lifting her up and spinning her. He crushed her to his chest, closing his eyes.

He gently set her down again and fondly ran his eyes over her face. Elizabeth reached up and affectionately twisted a strand of his hair between her fingers before she moved her hand behind his head, stood on her tiptoes and pressed his lips firmly against her own.

It took Will a moment to become completely aware that he wasn't dreaming. Finally he managed to return the kiss with equal, if not surpassing, vigor. They hadn't kissed so passionately in their relationship so far, not even on their first kiss, under the close scrutiny of the town. Now they were alone and both were making the most out of it.

Elizabeth's hands moved through his hair, her eyes shut as exquisite feelings took control over her entire body. She was hyperaware of all the places they touched, their lips, their torsos, their feet. Will gently ran his tongue over her lower lip and she opened her mouth, the kiss deepening even more.

Finally they parted, both struggling to open heavy lidded eyes.

"Thank you," She murmured against his lips.

Both their breathing was ragged and uneven, but finally Will caught his breath as he rested his forehead against hers.

"You're welcome. I went to your father and finally he gave me permission to teach you. I'll sleep much better knowing you can defend yourself." He stopped and then smiled. "Well, you've already proved that you can."

Elizabeth lowered her voice and her eyes grew darker.

"You know what I'm looking forward to Will?"

"Yes Lizzy?" He breathed, the look in her eye both unnerving him and exciting him at the same time.

"All of the one on one practice."

Will swallowed slightly and cleared his throat.

"When will we begin?" She asked.

"Right now."


	4. The Lesson Commences

"Will is this absolutely necessary?" Elizabeth asked in frustration as she held out her arm.

Will was busy strapping protective pads on both her arms and awkwardly around her torso to answer. All thoughts of romantic interludes vanished in Elizabeth's mind as she turned from, in her own opinion, presentable to downright unattractive.

That was her own opinion, however, because to Will's eyes she looked perhaps even more beautiful than usual. He finally finished buckling the strap to her arm and then handed her the sword he had fashioned.

"Okay Lizzy," he began, the nickname making her heartbeat quicken slightly. "Footwork is the most important aspect of fencing. Your feet need to be shoulder width apart to give you the greatest balance." He punctuated this by gently grasping her shoulder in one hand and with his foot, nudging her feet apart.

Just as Elizabeth was getting used to the contact and about to reciprocate, he moved away, evaluating her.

He smiled at the picture she made, so unladylike in the stance fencing required, her sword tightly clenched in her hand. He moved onto this next.

"Your hand, Elizabeth, needs to be relaxed. You entire body, in fact, needs to relax" He gently skimmed his hand down her back as he said then and then worked his own hand around hers, dwarfing her own.

Elizabeth could feel the slightly raised skin on his palm from where he had sliced it, and she shivered slightly, knowing she had an identical scar on her own hand. This bit of intimacy loosened her hand enough and he pulled away, leaving her in want of more.

"Always put yourself at a position that provides maximum room to attack and minimum room to _be _attacked," he said. He clasped his own hand in his sword and demonstrated, keeping one foot forward slightly and the other back. "Notice how my back foot is perpendicular to the front one," he continued.

Elizabeth allowed her eyes to run down his frame to his feet, and then back up again. This leisurely appraisal of his body unnerved him slightly and he cleared his throat. "Right, right, moving on then."

Elizabeth smiled in glee at the effect she had on him, momentarily forgetting she must look like something out of one of those forbidden horror novels, decked out in protective wear.

"Now, we move onto the first attacking step, the lunge," he said. He demonstrated, kicking out with his front leg and rapidly straightening his back leg.

"Now you try."

Determined to make a good first impression, Elizabeth lunged, but underestimated the weight of her sword, and this, along with the forward propelling of her body was a recipe for disaster. Her heart seemed to stop beating altogether as her legs refused to cooperate and she plummeted forward.

She was encircled in Will's strong grasp a moment later, her sword clattering on the floor. Her breath was still coming raggedly, though from the sudden adrenaline, the consequent embarrassment or being held so tightly, she knew not.

"Are you alright Elizabeth?" he whispered close to her ear. For a moment she hid her red face in his shoulder before seeming to get a hold of herself and straightened.

"Let's try that again," she said briskly, the flush in her face not having quite abated.

She made a move to try again before Will held up a hand and stopped her. "Here, let us try it this way."

He moved over to her, his tall form looming. With a gentleness that belied his strength, he sidled alongside of her. He put his hand over hers on the sword, the position forcing her body flush against his. Her back was against his chest, while the hand not holding the sword encircled her waist.

"Now," he said softly, his breath tickling the soft strands of hair by her ear "We move like this," he pulled her body forward, the sword flashing as it extended. Their front feet both bent at the knee, while their back legs involuntarily straightened.

The act of moving her body alongside his in such rhythmic, fluid motion was both strange and wonderful.

"Like this?" She moved again, forcing his body to keep next to her, pressing closely to him. At this sudden assault on his body, he let out a soft groan, hoping to whoever was up there that she didn't hear it.

"Yes, exactly like that," he murmured, not sure he was talking about her technique with a sword.

He extracted himself from her arms and then watched her lunge a few more times successfully.

"Wonderful job Lizzy, you're a natural."

Elizabeth beamed at this praise, and shot him a coquettish look. "I believe some credit must be given to my instructor." She walked toward him, giving him a smile that made him a little unsteady at the knees. "I had never known fencing to be quite so… physical." At this, she took a finger and glided it along his bicep. Then, taking a leaf of out Will's own book, she pulled away, leaving him slightly stupefied in her wake.

"Shall we commence?" She asked innocently, picking up her sword again.

Breathing out in a short gasp, he nodded, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. His Elizabeth was a vixen.

"Alright, I should have covered this before lunging, but in fencing you move by slightly shuffling your feet, where you have the most power." He demonstrated and she followed. "Good, good." He paused and considered what to teach next.

"Alright, next you need to know how to block an attack, called a parry," he explained.

Elizabeth nodded and he picked up his sword.

"Lunge and attack me."

"Excuse me?" Elizabeth asked, aghast.

"I can show you how to parry if you attack me."

"Will I cannot attack you! What if you miss? What if I err in some way?"

"Lizzy, you won't make a mistake, and I will certainly try my hardest to stop you." He smiled at her. "I have too much to live for to die now." With that, he looked at her, leaving no doubt in his mind what he was so fond of.

Unsteadily, she lunged, and he gently held up his sword to counter the attack. Their blades barely clashed, but the force of it sent Elizabeth reeling backward.

Unable to drop his sword and maneuver his way about her to catch her, Will watched, helpless, as she fell ungracefully on her back.

He was at her side in an instant, anxious to see if she was ok.

She lay sprawled on the floor, eyes shut. At this, Will panicked, wondering if she had hit her head on the rough floor.

"Lizzy, Lizzy," he shook her shoulder, trying to rouse her. She was silent, and then let out a soft groan.

Will dropped to his knees by her side and she slightly opened her eyes, looking at him with unfocused eyes.

He bent his head close to hers, his eyes worriedly tracing her features.

For a moment it was still, and so when in the next instant, when she sat up and started mercilessly tickling his exposed neck and shoulder, he couldn't have been more surprised than if she had sprouted another head.

He let out a sharp burst of laughter, and rolled away to avoid her. She followed and then he suddenly turned and pinned her to the floor, tickling her sides and reaching down to kiss her neck. She struggled under him until his lips touched the sensitive skin on her neck before she gasped.

He was lowering his lips to the soft skin on her neck again, his body almost completely on top of her, forgetting himself entirely as she wrapped her ankle around his calf. Then the door to the smithy burst open, filling the darkness with harsh daylight.

Will immediately pushed himself off her, sitting up. He squinted into the sunlight, dread effectively filling him as he recognized the figure.

This would notbe good.

* * *

Where oh where am I taking this story! I started this story thinking it would be a rather long oneshot! Have to love the random plotbunnies that plague us all. :) I'll try and get the next chapter written and up shortly! Thanks for the wonderful and supportive reviews.

-Laura


	5. Confrontation

Will pushed himself off Elizabeth and stared into the harsh daylight, trying to discern the intruder's identity.

"Turner!"

Will was on his feet in an instant, recognizing the regimentals if not the man wearing them. Will's eyesight had not adjusted enough to distinguish the individual features, but he was sure that he wasn't going to like the outcome.

A solider catching him in such a position would be enough reason and evidence to have him hung for rape, even if the woman in question was as much, if not more the instigator.

By this time Elizabeth was on her feet and both their eyesight had adjusted enough to make out their intruder.

"Gilette!" Will was relieved it wasn't the commodore, or worse, the Governor. For a moment he allowed the horrifying notion of the Governor catching him in such a compromising position with his daughter to wash over him. That would have been much more terrifying than a ship full of undead pirates.

He forced himself to abandon such nightmarish thoughts and focuses on the pressing matter at hand. It was good, yes, that the commodore or the Governor had not found them, but he was not free yet. Captain Gilette could prove to be a most prickly thorn in his side if Will did not hand the situation efficiently.

"Captain," he said quietly. He nodded his head and gestured to his workspace. "You are here to pick up your order, I assume?"

With a grace and swiftness worthy of comparison to Captain Jack Sparrow, Will had smoothly led the bewildered solider to his workbench and picked up the hinges and sword that comprised the soldier's orders.

Gilette did not stay bewildered for long. Seeing this as a chance to redeem himself in Norrington's eyes after his horrific blunder earlier in the day, he grasped Will's outturned wrist and started binding it to his other hand.

"You are under arrest Mr. Turner."

Fighting with remarkable self control, Will did not immediately throw the smaller man off him. He instead allowed Gilette to continue binding, his mind wracking through plans and notions at a fervent pace.

"Captain Gilette, I beg of you, what am I being detained for?" Will asked innocently, enjoying the way Gilette's face turned an interesting shade of plum.

"You are under arrest for the attempted rape of the Governor's daughter, Miss Elizabeth Swann!"

Will instinctively looked around for her at her name. His partner in crime however, had disappeared. Probably to salvage her reputation.

This sobering thought immediately quieted any of his good humor. His Jack Sparrow flash of inspiration left him as quickly and unexpectedly as it had come.

He was a fool, an utter fool. He had allowed his passion to go on unrestrained. And now Elizabeth's reputation would be forever sullied! She would never marry well. The notion of Elizabeth marrying someone else was like a blade running through his heart, but he forced himself to think of it. The self inflicted punishment made his breath ragged and his eyes take on a malevolent tinge.

Captain Gilette was prattling on about some offense or the other, but he heard nothing of it. Indeed his anger was mounting to a feverish pitch, but it was all directed at himself.

He was an idiot! A first-class fool. He had ruined Elizabeth. He had ruined her. Let him be hung, let him die. Maybe then the shame he had inflicted on Elizabeth might abate somewhat out of respect for the dead.

The moment these ideas entered his head, the same self preservation that had helped him retrieve Elizabeth and himself safely kicked in.

No, he would not die at the gallows.

He would escape Port Royal, sail to Tortuga, find Jack and spend the rest of his days ruing the day he was born and trying to guard the tattered remains of his heart.

It was not a pleasing picture, but it was one he would have to face. He had to protect Elizabeth's reputation at all costs, and if that meant leaving her forever, killing himself in the process, he would do it.

He had resigned himself to his fate and was about to inch his way to a nearby sword when a flash of silver stopped him dead in his tracks.

Elizabeth stood, her feet squarely apart, her sword in her hand.

"Unbind my fiancé."

"You're _what!" _Gilette nearly screamed. The news of her betrothal seemed to be more surprising to him than the fact that she was wielding a sword.

This was news to Will as well. He could only stare dumbly at his unexpected rescuer.

"I said my fiancé, are you deaf sir? Release him at once."

"Miss Swann, I do not know what kind of magic or pirate… tricks this scoundrel has employed against you, but it has obviously muddled your mind." Gilette tried to take a kindly approach. "But if you come with me, this man will be hanged and therefore, your mind will be released from his treachery."

Gilette obviously was not entertaining the idea seriously than she would use the blade if met with opposition. Her steady hand and correct stance might have convinced some smarter than he that she was not to be taken lightly, but instead he gave her his most convincing smile.

_If he got Will Turner out of the way, there would be both a promotion and perhaps impending nuptials!_ He thought merrily, instinctively tightening the slack rope around Will's even slacker wrists.

Will was trying to process the turn of events. Elizabeth was holding a sword. Elizabeth was calling herself his fiancée. His eyes widened even more when he saw the telltale, almost imperceptible movement of her back leg.

She was about to strike out.

"Release him Gilette, or I will not hesitate to cut you through." She asked through gritted teeth, hoping to God she would not have to.

Gilette laughed easily, entertained by her antics. She was spirited, yes. He liked that.

Elizabeth lunged, using all her strength to push herself forward. Will stood in astonishment, as with a visible effort, she yanked the sword back at the last moment, effectively stopping it a hairs breadth from Gilette's throat.

"Release him."

Gilette cowed before her, shock stilling his features.

"_Release him!" _She shouted fiercely.

With trembling hands, he did as was told. Will made a move to go to her but the ferocious glare she was sending Gilette's way shifted to him as he started to move. He froze in his tracks and let her do the talking.

"You will not mention this to a soul." She said sternly.

Gilette nodded, but she still did not trust him.

"If you do mention this to anyone I will inform my father that you forced yourself upon me and left this," With that she used her free hand to yank the collar of his dress down slightly. A purplish red mark was there, compliments of William Turner.

Will shrank down in embarrassment, but understood Elizabeth's logic. If Gilette spoke of it to anyone, one gesture from her would have him hung for rape.

By God she was brilliant.

Gilette fairly ran from the shop and never turned back, leaving Will staring at Elizabeth with a mixture of astonishment and respect.

"That, my love, was worthy of Captain Jack Sparrow."

"It was compliments of you, Mr. Turner."

Will colored a deep red. Then he tried to stammer out the words to address the issue most pressing on his mind.

"You-you told him we were affianced." He stammered out.

"Yes," She said. She smiled at him, looking if possible, more beautiful than he had ever seen her.

"You told him we were affianced." He repeated, unable to say anything else.

"Is that a problem Mr. Turner?"

At that, Will's face broke out into a huge smile. "You mean to say that you wish to marry…me?"

"If it is quite alright with you," she said primly, the merriment in her eyes betraying her proper tone.

"Oh Lizzy!" Will threw his arms around her and spun her around joyously. "I love you."

Elizabeth smiled against Will's warm neck and murmured that she returned his affection.

"This certainly has been an unconventional courtship," he said smiling.

"I would not have it any other way William Turner."

With that, she pulled his head down to hers and kissed him in such a way that left him no doubt of her intentions toward him.

El Fin.

* * *

So, what did you guys think? Any comments, suggestions would be welcome. Flamers can rot in hell for all I care. : ) Thanks for the support and see you guys around the POTC fan fiction block.

-Laura


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